


Paper Principles

by EyesOfDolls



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Family Death/ Mentions of Sibling Death, Grief, M/M, MY SELF CARE IS POLITELY IGNORING DISCUSSING HOMOPHOBIA OK, Mentions of neglect, Not entirely linear, Other, Self doubt/ self blame, Some mental breakdowns and calm downs, also i call him eaton in this, blame roman, dee is not abusive hes just not good at expressing himself, ill make chapter specfic warnings k, ill tag it dont worry, jelousy but not in the romantic partner way, just to clarify since im not sure it was clear in the text, platonic royality - Freeform, royality, sexual lines of dialouge, tell me if anything else slipped its greasy little fingers through the cracks, they might have some dependecy issues that i never adressed properly tbh, this is mostly set in flordia so the holiday chapter will not have snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-17 10:24:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17558612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EyesOfDolls/pseuds/EyesOfDolls
Summary: On paper, Patton and Roman were inseparable.On Paper, Patton and Roman were just friends.They didn't really read between the lines with each other, didn't try to push it further then it was because it was comfortable. Being together was comfortable, no more, no less. Just having someone familiar, someone you could call home, not to necessarily solve anything, but to know you're not the only one who can feel your heartbeat, that you were alive, that you didn't just make it all up in your head.Because at the end of the day, it didn't matter what you thought it was, it just was what it was. What it should or shouldn’t become did not and will not matter.At the end of the day, it's just Patton and Roman.





	1. flordia rain has the tendency for the dramatics, roman appreciates their efforts

**Author's Note:**

> -mentions of family death/ grief

/On paper, Patton and Roman were inseparable./

He huffed into Patton’s jacket, ignoring the lingering smoke of his friend's house clinging to his clothes, and instead just drinking in Patton. On cue, strong hands wrapped around Roman’s waist, only further encouraging said redheaded gremlin to bury his face further, because Patton was safe, Patton wasn’t new, or unrecognizable. 

He listened to the increasing Florida Rain ™, the humidity making their embrace sticky, the clothes, that Patton so adamantly made him keep on like a coward, slick to his back due to an intriguing mixture of sweat, and the oncoming rain he couldn’t avoid. The air was thick, with the half-broken ceiling fan clattering dangerously above them, and the distant buzz of some abomination of life somewhere in the next room. 

Patton had found him outside in the backyard, as far away he could get from the house without drawing his extended family’s too far off stares, too muffled apologies, and too warm embraces bombarding him again. 

After all, how could he face them? 

His Mom’s ragged heaving and sobs, half dressed in a robe and an old shirt from college praying at his sister’s empty bed is what they expected from him... His Mama’s almost erratic energy, planning the funeral, planning to donate, joining every community, group therapy, keeping the family’s head above water is what they wanted from him.

How could he tell them that he didn’t feel...anything?

It was too surreal as if he was watching the stages of grief unravel before him, reach out for him, but it felt like it grabbed someone else's hand. Someone else's life, as if he just happened to turn on the channel at the devastating plot twist. 

Not like he was there.

He wasn’t really here. 

But Roman’s body was stubborn, even when he wasn’t and his heart kept beating, kept insisting, that he was. His skin shivering from the cold, only to calm in Patton’s hug insisted that he was, how his throat seemed to tighten, and how the world seemed to shake with precipitation fueled anger, insisted that he was alive. How Patton’s unwavering comfort insisted he was alive, that he was here, and Patton could hear it. 

And he almost believed it.


	2. these stains may be tough, but you bet this platonic affection is tougher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -mentions of neglect  
> -sexual lines of dialouge (theyre like 17ish 18ish now)  
> -sorta insecurities  
> -cursing

/On Paper, Patton and Roman were just friends./ 

Patton shuffled, pawing at the seams of his jacket, his frustratingly baggy jacket, as he watched Roman fiddled around under his Mom's’ bathroom sink. A box of tampons and a random box of old perfume bottles clattered noisily to the ground, and Patton winced at the sound, “Are you sure we should be in here, “ he glanced at the door behind them, as if said parental figures would burst down the door with brooms at any moment, “It seems...private.” 

“Nah,” Roman waved off, tucking another container and bottle under his arms, “I’m in here all the time, plus,” he craned his neck back, to see Patton easier, hair falling back almost to the floor in loose coils, “My stuff’s too pale for you and Mom is always stealing my shit anyways. It’s a bond built on mutual thievery and she’d kill me if I’d let you walk out of this house ‘feeling less then you are’.” 

Patton frowned, opening his mouth quizzically.

Roman stood, his wiry frame easily unraveling to where he was at Patton’s nose, so quickly in fact that Patton had to force himself to not flinch, “Keep in mind, that in this house I am legally obligated to fight you if you talk bad about yourself,” His breath tickled, his voice light and playful despite him fully capable of doing what he promised. 

Patton sputtered, ignoring how his ears burned, “Weren’t you just bad mouthing yourself last week, Ro?”

“I was not,” Roman squawked, adjusting his horde of stolen goods to shuffle into the hallway, Patton following closely behind, face soft, “It was merely artistic critique for that god- awful performance. Did you not hear how I fucking voice cracked, at the grade finale no less? Patton. Patton! Did you not hear!” he none too delicately kicked his door open, pushing a pile of dirty laundry in front of the door in an attempt to keep it someone open. 

Patton stepped over the mess, not batting an eye as Roman tossed the assortment of goods onto the bed, some bouncing and rolling off into the abyss that is Roman’s room, before sitting in the plastic lawn chair, that Roman had layered in quilts. As Roman inhumanely fluttered around his dresser, gathering brushes, and was that a toothbrush??? Patton let himself relax.

“Do you want red or pink lipstick?” Roman called, face furrowed.

“Lipstick?-No I Just,” Patton bit his lip, eyes decidedly not meeting Roman’s inquisitive gaze, “No lipstick, please? Anything is fine, just nothing too…”

“Noticeable? Gotcha,” Roman set down the lipsticks, a wistful look in his eye, “Though you’d really-like really look cute, but no- baby steps,” he gasped dramatically clinging to his dresser, and turning to look back at Patton with an overtly- hysteric look, “ Baby steps.”

 

“Shut up,” Patton huffed, no longer fighting a smile, “And put the dang stuff on my face.”

“Dang?” Roman snorted, picking up a bottle and a clean brush, now suddenly standing over Patton, “Such appalling language, my fair maiden.”

“Maybe I’m an appalling fair maiden?” Patton offered, eyes fluttering closed as he finally registered how Roman’s house was so warm. 

Even the hard plastic lawn-chair was comfortable, with the quilts smelling fresh out the dryer, clean. It reminded him of when Eaton and him were sent to the Laundromat. Them waddling down the street with a bright, sharp basket scraping against the pavement, the fluorescent lights shining a bit too bright. The only good part about those days was when they took the laundry out, it's warmth lingering enough to put a smile even on the bitterness that is Eaton.

“Huh?” Patton opened an eye, curious about why Roman hadn’t started yet.

“What? Nothing,” Roman’s voice cracked, face turning redder. Promptly getting to work, with whatever he was doing, incessant chatter and all. 

It was strangely therapeutic, in a Roman way, even though he had little to no filter or self-control, there was still a cadence to him, to the conversation. Less embarrassment, or worrying about what he was saying, and more of questioning, why shouldn’t he say it? It made him happy, it made being happy for a moment a little less pointless. 

“Patton-” Roman huffed, lightly twisting a strand of Patton’s relaxed hair, “You’re getting that philosophical look again, you old man. Talk to me.”

“Currently Talking.”

Roman tapped the side of Patton’s head, gasping, “My-Oh-My the sass in you is strong today? Maybe ‘Dr. I Pick baby's tears with my vintage black nail polish’ isn’t such a bad influence after all?”

“Rome don’t be mean,” Patton scolded, biting his lip, “Virgil’s nice…” he defended, picking at the threads of his jacket, “A little grumpy, but I kinda like...being around him” 

“I am being perfectly civil, and totally deserved to win that writing competition that he unlawfully took from-” He froze, a smile slowly blooming across his face. Terrifying and Eerily familiar, if Patton had, to be honest, he’s sure Roman had picked it up from Eaton. 

“That’s an interesting sentence. Last week you were shaking in your boots around him? What changed? Hm?”He gripped Patton’s shoulders from behind, words slow and deliberate, “ Please elaborate.” 

All words proceeded to die in Patton’s mouth.

Roman, ever the conqueror of all silences gasped, “Wait is he why you wanted to try out makeup? If so totally not fair since I’ve been trying since diapers -”

“Wait,” Patton interjected, although his words felt muted, “It’s not even like that? Plus how do you know if I’m even gay if he’s even gay?”

“Patton.”

“Ok, so I’m gay, and he’s definitely some shade of gay, but it really isn’t like that,” Patton signed into his hands, hoping to disappear behind his hair, “I got curious, that's all...” 

Roman, loosened his grip, instead of slipping around, and easily plopping himself into Patton’s lap, lips pursed, “Is it” He frowned, “Is that really it?”

Patton wrapped his arm around Roman, ignoring how the plastic creaked and instead tried to get comfortable, “Yeah...no, not really” his throat felt tight, “With Eaton being...Eaton. The house is kinda lonely…Not much to do...Really quiet, until it’s not…” 

Roman’s eyes narrowed, predatorial, “Oh that bitch.” he said, softly. 

“You’ve been lusting after that….bzvdhh,” Patton waved, ignoring Roman’s snickers, “Since 8th grade, you hmph-”Patton squeaked, being muffled by Roman’s offending hand. 

“Nope, shush, shushshity, shush.” He jumped up, brushing off his sweatpants, “ This is no longer about emo twinks, romance, or how Eaton should tot-ally crush me in his-Nope, not about that, bad Roman, bad. No, this is about my favorite person,” He squeezed Patton’s arm for emphasis, “ in the world learning how to use the devil’s brush, looking and feeling cute while doing it, no objections. This is about you.”

 

“Roman…”

“Pat I said no objections, I love you, let me love you.” He scowled, arms flapping. 

Patton swallowed thickly, “Thank you.”


	3. cold park-benches and too bright screens are inadequate places for roman’s break down, but he’ll take it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -college age yo  
> -mental breakdown/ freakout

/On paper. Patton and Roman were Inseparable/

His hands were numbed, holding his lolled head from completely collapsing onto the park bench he was curled into. His clothes were scratchy, the stains from earlier that night still angrily present across his thighs and shirt. 

Ignoring how the cold pressed into his thighs, into him, he scrolled through his phone, not noticing how he squinted at the light, not noticing how he didn’t even bother turning down the light, and not acknowledging the worried streams of text he got from Patton. He’s not even sure they were from Patton. He wasn’t sure about much nowadays. 

Life after high school was really the cold jump in the lake Roman sure as hell didn’t sign up for. Nothing was right, not the classes he wanted, no, strived to get into, not his teachers, not his now blurry future plans, and certainly not his relationships. 

Because he certainly knows how to fuck up basic human interactions. He doesn’t even know when it happened, he was usually so in control, everything was in his grasps. He had the confidence, the charm, he could carry a conversation without feeling the bile in his throat follow through with it's threats. He was perfect.

But it was fucking exhausting.

School piled up quickly, homework seemed to be an endless game of catch up of things he isn’t even sure they learned, and all around him it felt like everyone was mocking them with their ease, with their achievements. People getting diplomas, finishing top of their class, even just managing to go out to get some shitty cold coffee with their friends without their body going into full panic mode. All he could feel, all he got was him slipping. Slipping and slipping. Until he did it, he finally reached his grand climax, the finale to end all finale’s. 

He fucked up. 

And now he might as well disappear. 

His fingers mindlessly scrolled faster as Roman blinked back the familiar sensation fogging his mind.Nothing really on the screen to comfort or calm him, more like the sensation of feeling something, even as simple as the cool, surprisingly unshattered phone in his palm provided a sense of weight and comfort. Eventually the fogg slipped away, quietly, job done. 

His throat untightened, his body untensed, and now he just existed. Amongst the barren trees, the foreign nipping air, and the stench of the city not too far from here. He let himself become one with this picture, let his mind fade into the noisy, car horns sometimes faint voices. He picks out each, puts them into their boxes and moves on, ignoring how he embarrassing wishes he could hear the damn cicadas screech their heads off. 

Instead he hears the shuffling of footsteps approaching, slow and steady. Roman huffed, dropping his head into his arms in a lame attempt at hiding… everything really. He peeked, curiosity ever the bitch, catching a glimpse at the familiar, faintly worn in brown [shoe name] that stopped in front of him. 

He didn’t greet them, it just felt...wrong to speak at all. He could speak now, thoeretically like he could theoretically shoot a puppy. He could, but he wouldn’t. It was wrong by the sheer fact that every sense of his being felt like it was stuffed with cotton and freshly sewn up. 

“Roman,” he greeted, voice freshly woken up and hoarse, and Roman winced. 

He woke him up.

A few beats of silence, before they sighed, the creak of the park bench beside Roman grabbing his attention. A few more and Roman finally dragged himself to at least look at the man, he could do that much he thinks. 

Dark brunette hair, their neat waves tucked behind their ear in defiance. Glassless eyes only making the sharpness of the blue stand out even more against their tanned skin. Said eyes flickered over him in a brief display of concern and Roman tried not to let that feed his ego. 

“Roman, you know he worries about you. ” Logan said, no more no less could be said. 

 

So Roman didn’t say anything, instead focusing on Logan’s shoes, noting his change in shoelace color. Black to brown, a bold choice. 

Another pause, another silence. It was weird, weeks of staying with Logan abroad was constantly filled with some noise. Yelling, pens clicking, coffee brewing. A different type of cadence then home, one that matched his pace, challenged his pace. But today, it was slow moving, a hesitant crescendo. It’s soft, yet strong cadence stirred him with familiarity. 

“You don’t have to talk about it with me.” Logan finally said, voice firm but not final, “We can argue another time, hell we argue all the time, but” He paused, eyebrows twitching, searching, “When you’re ready you do need to call him. To call home, talk to someone, anyone else if you feel like you can’t talk to me. Even if it’s just your blog, anything , please. ”

Roman’s shoulders sagged, only mildly alarmed to not feel the urge to lash out. Instead he croaked in agreement, face cringing at the sound. 

Tension unraveled from Logan all at once, shoulders rolling back and he almost held an air of dishevelment as he silently he slumped across the bench, shoulders barely brushing Roman’s. 

”You wanna stay for a bit more or head back?” He asked, the escaped strands of his bun curling definitely in his face , clouding his expression with an air of innocence.

Mumbling incoherently, Roman’s body surprisingly leaned into his touch, head lolling, “Here’s s’okay for a bit, “ he grumbled, pointedly not looking at much of anything, but he found he couldn’t ignore much of anything at this point as well.


	4. -BONUS 3.2-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -the after after math of the previous chapter

Roman’s legged bounced, watching the clock, every single one of those bastards, with a vigilance Virgil would be proud of, totally not prepared to tuck and roll into a garbage can at the slightest inkling of a notification. 

The time wasn’t perfect, per say, but Logan was off at his part-time blood sucking job, the internet connection was thriving, and he’s an impulsive bitch who sent the message before thinking about it when his nerves weren’t rolling down the hill at full speed faster then Logan stealing the last of Roman’s jam. 

It was fine, he’s fine, he is calm, he is calm-

His phone blared, [ Pat <3 is calling...] and he jumped, answering before he could read it. He could hear their voice already, heavily laced in dissapoint, a touch of spite, and a healthy dash of loathing, the possibilities were endless and Rman envisioned them all within the 5 seconds,

“Roman I...” Patton said breathless, not really continuing, not really explaining or demanding, just being there...

Tension rolled off him in waves, but Roman managed to smile, “Hey...Pat,” he weakly answered blinking rapidly. Chest fluttering with a slow bout of relief. The urge was uncontrollable, after all. Patton sounded like home and hell he did miss being there.


	5. two secrets and other lies we told ourselves at late o clock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -self doubt  
> -cursing  
> -long one   
> -nothing is solved but its ok

/On paper, Patton and Roman were just friends/

Eyes narrowed, Patton crammed another chunk of cake in his mouth, brushing away the crumbs with the sleeve of his newly finished knitted sweater.

Across the table his boyfriend, sighed, rolling his eyes, “You’re not going to convince me by throwing a tantrum,” He huffed, giving a pointed look over his tinted frames, jabbing his own barely touched cake with his finger for emphasis, “Look, girl, girl, you put too much damn vanilla in this.” 

“I did not,” Patton swallowed, sniffing through the pain, “You’re just being mean.” 

Remy scoffed, smiling, “Sure thing babe, “ he leaned over swiping some of Patton’s icing that escaped onto his face, tongue flicking out to taste that abomination of humanity, “Totally not,”

“Ugh, “ He batted Remy’s hands away, “No respect in this house I swear-” His nose curled, eyes darting to the kitchen, his kitchen, “My chocolate muffins shi-” He sprung from his chair, darting out the room, table and it’s random array of various holiday-themed ornaments clattering dangerously .

After a few dozen noticeable crashes from the danger zone, Remy's phone buzzed. Easily slipping it out, Remy glanced towards the kitchen before eying the string of texts, “Bitch,” he frowned, noting the recent timestamps of the vague as hell texts, “Ugh, this tea better be strong.”

He sighed, brushing off the remaining crumbs from his leather jacket, pushing his shades further up the bridge of his nose, he stood up, humming as he strolled to the door. 

Swinging it open, he scowled, amused, “Isn’t it my favorite trash-man, what’s this? Late.” He tsked, moving to let Virgil inside. 

“Shut your face,” Virgil sneered, quietly shutting the door behind him, not bothering to remove his jacket, “Weren’t you the man who was late to a dinner date at his own house?” His eyes narrowed, fighting the smile automatically curling on his face. 

“I was seeing the sights,” Remy shrugged, lazily making his way back to the table. 

Rolling his eyes, Virgil follows suit picking the seat closest to the door, “Remy, you disaster, you were in the house.”

“So,” said disaster clasped his hands, looking like a bored madman, “Where are these complications and how are they so complicated that you didn’t even spill over text?”

“Drama rat.” 

“Correct, now did these complications involve the chess discourse or do they involve 80-year-old women threatening to destroy someone’s legacy from the source.” 

“Neither,” Virgil said, reaching to steal Remy’s cake, which he pushed towards him gladly, “Though Lucy is pissed you didn’t visit last week,” he carelessly bit into a large chunk, face souring immediately, but swallowing nonetheless. 

“Hey, this drama rat has to pay his bills.” 

“Excuses, excuses,” Virgil ate another chunk with more visible ease, “Prince and Prince Charming are in the car,” he grumbled, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“What are they making out all over your vintage seats or something?” 

“I wish,” Virgil snorted, “They’ve been talking nerd the entire way, and that’d be fine if they didn’t somehow manage to shove their unresolved romantic- sexual shit into it.” 

“Ah, I remember those days,” Remy almost swooned in distaste, “How long have those two have been pining? One? Two months or something?”

Virgil stared at him, slowly placing his fork down, blinking slowly, “Try... five... years.” he said as if the reality had just dawned on him. He picked up his fork again, slamming it down for emphasis, “Five fucking years, holy shit. I’m done with Roman and his dramatic bullfuckshittery, fuck thi...and Logan. Logan. Nevermind I should’ve expected this...then again they aren't really obligated to define themselves, but my seats are too delicate to handle them avoiding it completely like they are--” his eyes were glazed, as he continued mumbled rant of vague curses. 

Patton chose that moment to peek out of the kitchen, satin bonnet now on, smudges decorating his face, and soft hazel eyes holding a deathly gleam, “Did you just say Roman?”

Remy smiled sweetly, shooting Virgil a glare, “Yes, Roman, who just landed in Italy, right Virgil?”, meanwhile, he internally pleads for Virgil to shut the fuck up.

Virgil flushed, avoiding Patton’s curious gaze, “R-right, Italy--Italy. You know this cake is really good Patton let’s talk about that and not Roman, who is in Italy. Rome. Like his name...” he said, stuffing another scoop of the overtly flavored cake in his mouth. 

Sensing weakness, Patton narrowed his attention onto Virgil, who unlike Eaton, could hardly manage to tell any less than the truth. It’s what Patton had always liked about Virgil. Especially moments like now, when Remy couldn’t sass his way out of interrogations. 

“Virge,” Patton tilted his head, just a bit, batting his eyelashes, “You wouldn’t know if Roman, who I love more then anything-”

“The fuck am I?” Remy scoffed, not surprised

“Boyf-best-friend is different then Best-best-friend, love-” Patton corrected, not missing how Virgil none too subtly tried to fade into the furniture, “So, if I text him now he wouldn’t tell me he’s outside?”

 

“I….Uh.” Virgil looked to Remy for assistance. 

They both knew the only other person worse then Virgil at keeping secrets from Patton was Roman. Not because he couldn’t lie for shit, hell he could give Eaton a run for his money if the chips were down. No, it was more like Roman would actually kill a man before he willingly disappointed Patton, even for a surprise. 

Remy looked away like a goddamn traitor.

And that was enough evidence for Patton to go power walking out the door, not even bothering to put on shoes. By the time the other two had trudged out there, Virgil briefly raiding the kitchen beforehand, Patton was a bundle of giggles, excitedly chattering and bounding around the guest. Roman looking pleased, face flushed and beaming, and Logan looking vaguely disoriented, standing behind Roman as if Patton would bite. 

‘Which he does.’ Remy smiled, standing in the doorway, eyes appreciatively watching his boyfriend’s freckled face, his initial irritation washing away. 

“Ugh, stop giving me oogies,” Virgil blandly complained, not really looking up from his popcorn, “ I thought you said you ate your emotions.” 

“I do. Without remorse,” Remy said, watching Patton’s attempts to talk to Logan, “--but he’s like, really cute though, look at him he’s like a puppy— it’s hella unfair.”

“Excuses,” Virgil glanced at Patton, who still wore that damned sweater dress, despite the rapidly fading brief winter weather, “Valid as they are—“ he admitted between mouthfuls, “Are still excuses yah filthy gremlin. Just admit it, you’re old and full of icky emotions like the rest of us.” 

Remy scoffed, looking over his sunglasses appalled and mouth open for rebuttal, but whatever not teen rated thing he had to say was halted all as once as Patton twirled around, beckoning him to greet their guests. 

Remy slid away quick with a bit too much skip in his “cool guy” walk to even be considered casual. 

Virgil rolling his eyes and stubbornly remaining in the air conditioning called out, “You fucking softie..”

“You bet your vintage ass I am,” Remy said, flipping him off before sliding an arm around Patron guiding him and their honored guest inside.

 

Watching the clouds gather outside, Virgil knew it was going to be a long night.

-

Patto sighed into the cheap lawn chair they kept on the porch, the soft rolling of thunder, and the soft thuds of the incoming rain a familiar accompaniment as he lazily stirred his tea. It was strange to think that the holidays used to feel so...draining.

A lot of the time he spent it trying to ignore the overwhelming loneliness it brought seeing the whole world past lights blazing, laughing easy. Even when he was offered a place to spend the days with Roman and his parents or Virgil and his grandmother, even the rare occasions Eaton offered to let him hang out with their group of friends, it felt like he was intruding in someone else’s moment. 

But now...the moment felt all his. It wasn’t the flashy lights or dramatic public displays, it wasn’t traveling the world, throwing himself headfirst into whatever life gave. it was something softer, comfortable. And he loved it. So he didn’t understand why he felt so…

“Oh, Patt, there you are,” the screen door opened, Roman ducking outside easily.

Patton swallowed, setting his tea aside, “Yea, Virge kicked me out of the kitchen,” he sniffed, “-and I don’t drink at every possible occasion, unlike some people.”

“Hey, hey, is that judgment?” Roman gasped, sitting in the other chair gayly, feet somehow propping themselves up while simultaneously maintaining an air of politeness, “Or-or, is it you're mad that shades and you lost? 

“Oh I’m not judging,” Patton hummed, judgmentally, “I’m just saying that shoving Remy off the couch, while he was already tipsy is a questionable method at winning Mario Cart.” 

“Virgil promised me a twenty, if I did, that’s a lie I did it for free.” Roman shrugged, taking down his messy bun and threading his hands through his hair, “Anyway! Shades and Specs are sulking because I kicked their asses once again and, now, ugh! Refuse to give me any more attention, “ he whined, slumping further into his seat, “Patton, I needed attention, I can feel my youth draining already.” 

Patton snorted, “What about Virgil?”

“He’s sleeping like a babe,” Roman scratched his chin, “A very loud grumpy babe, who hissed when I moved him upstairs because he can’t admit he likes being carried.” 

“So I’m your last choice?” Patton said, “I’m hurt.”

“You shouldn’t and you weren’t,” he said, “I would’ve bugged you earlier but Remy threatened to slice me like a cake if I disturbed your peace. “ He sniffed, “The nerve, me? Disturbing the peace? I’m a delight.”

“Well, there was second grade when…”

Roman’s face flushed, “I was a kid, a very justified, gay kid.”

“Mhm, that’s what you always say,” Patton said, grinning, “How about that time at the park, with Ms. Flores. -”

“She might be old, may she be at peace, but she was petty and I never fail to rise to the challenge.” he crossed his arms, “And don’t mhm me, it was second grade! I’m allowed to have crushes, even if they have abysmal taste in writing.” 

“Now that I think about it you’ve had crushes on a lot of our friends, most turned into squishes but... hmm..” he sipped his tea content, “Virgil, Eaton, Nate, Terrence-”

“Pat, please no, you said you loved me,” Roman groaned through his hands. 

“I think me at one point?” Patton said, setting his cup down, “Don’t know why though…”

“I was five,” He huffed, “And you are cutest out of all of them.”

 

“Mhm, sounds fake, but that ring pop was pretty, plus,” Patton said, before adding on a bit more quietly, “I think it’s cute you had so much love to give,” He curled into the seat tighter, that creeping unease settling on him as easily as he pushed it away. 

 

“Huh,” Roman paused, “I thought I was just...flaky.” 

“No…” Patton frowned, “No. You are not a flake Roman, you throw yourself into everything, into everyone. You didn’t stop loving your crushes, you just love them a different way."

"No relationship is ever just…” Patton's voice hitched, “ no person is just a stepping stone for you. Well,” he forced a laugh, “At least I hope not, you have gotten pretty big online...you travel all the time, meet people all the time. Your career’s bigger than anything I've made in the workshop…” 

Ah, that’s the feeling. 

Not jealous….just…less. Too slow. Not enough. He was almost 30 after all, what has he to show, what has he done?

“Uh, Patton amour, pardon my french, but that’s bullshit,” Roman said, brow furrowed and trained on him. 

“Wha-?”

“It's,” Roman leaned closer, “Bull-” he said, “Shit.” 

 

Before Patton could finish gaping and respond, Roman jumped in, “Did you or did you not pay and work your way to college?”

“It was a community college-”

“It was unthinkable for you. Remember? You expected to fail high school, to barely get your GED.”

Patton smiled sadly, “I hated school.”

“As you should, some, not Mrs. Huang she was a saint, those teachers were fucking obnoxious shits with only a diploma shoved up their--” 

Roman grumbled shaking his head, “Let it go-Let it go-Let it fucking go--,” he half sang, “Anyway, you hated the system, but you worked it. You graduated, went to college with little support at home. And got a whole job.”

“Roman I…” Patton slumped, “That’s great, wonderful, fantastic, but got that job I expected to...move on, to make a change, now I don’t have any expectations at all. I don’t have a growing career…” 

“No, but you have a stable one.” Roman said, hugging himself, “Sure, my growth might be a bit much...but that’s all I have right now. Growth. Nothing’s stable, nothing’s set in stone...nothing is ...mine.” 

“Roman…”

“No, I’m not being self-deprecative...I think. It’s just,” Roman sighed, rocking in his seat, “When my blog’s gone when my videos are gone when my friends all around the world start to settle down what do I have to show my progress?

"Patton, you have a home, a community you support and see every day, a fiance who loves you as much as you love him. I love my life to death, I’m thankful I can even have it, but sometimes, a lot of times, I think. Shocking, yes, but I think." 

"About when I’m old, about when I’m dying, about when I don’t want to do this anymore. When I just want to settle down and just rest I--” He laughed, body jerking unnaturally," Will I even have a chance? None of it seems real now…And I-” he squeaked, Patton plopping into his lap. 

“Pat-” Roman whined, “I --Ugh, sorry I was supposed to let you sulk,” Patton rested his head on Roman’s shoulder, playing with his hands. 

“We can sulk like this,” Patton said, throat tight, “Being sad with friends is a preference of mine.” 

“Even if it solves nothing?”

Patton closed his eyes, “Who says we have to solve anything?”

/Because in the end, they were just Patton and Roman/


	6. -BONUS 5.2-

Patton opened his eyes, body sluggish and stiff against Roman. He stiffened, hearing Roman’s soft snores, and settled back down letting the offending raindrops tickle his legs for another couple seconds. Hearing a roll of thunder, he sighed, slowly rolling off. 

“Ro- Roman,” he said, prodding the man’s sides, “Ro, get up before we get rained on.”

“I’dunwanna,” he grumbled, curling into the lawn chair further. 

“Okay,” Patton rolled his eyes, “Take your time I guess,.” he stretched shaking off the remaining sleep. Watching the rain steadily grow, he mulled over something Roman said earlier.

“Roman?”

“Mhm..” he sluggishly answered, flipping out his phone and turning it on. 

“You said fiance earlier,” All remaining sleep, sunk out of Patton, a smile creeping on his face, “Is that why you’re here? Is Remy planning to propose this week?”

“I uh,” He straightened, eyes darting down to his phone, “Fuck? Whoops?”

“Oh my go-I knew it was going to happen soon but I didn-how is he- when, ” Patton patted his cheeks sharply, “Nope, don’t tell me anything more. I don’t want to ruin it.”

“Well my funeral will certainly dampen the mood.”The color drained from Roman’s face, him swallowing thickly.

“Ro, Remy and I have been talking about it,” Patton reassured, weak, “I’m sure he won’t be too mad even if he finds out.”

“No not that, I mean partially but,” he turned his phone around, showing several missed calls from “Mama” and “Mom” respectively. 

Patton choked, “You didn’t tell them you were coming home,” he gaped, sympathetic, “Ro you haven't been home for the holidays in years.” 

“ I’m a dumbass,” Roman sobbed into his hands, “ an absolute dumbass, who’s ass is dead when they find me. Buried. Right front yard and they’ll post it on facebook too.” 

Patton could only nod in agreement. 

Sometimes it's best to let things be.

**Author's Note:**

> these are going to be lil snapshots sorta that may give you the complete picture or leave you completely in the dark depending on what i want the focuas of it to be, if you want more details please comment specfics because sometimes i do actually think the world through and im chill with clarifying stuff that's only briefly mentioned 
> 
> so prepare for these to get longer(cause yah writer wrote this whole thing out) and i hope you enjoy!!


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